


Sea Shell

by TwoCatsTailoring



Series: Sexual Sunday [5]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring





	Sea Shell

He’s seen plenty of women in this position. But this, this is a first.

 So he’d fucked things up pretty hard core for a really long time, pointing fingers and placing blame on her for his own hurt feelings. He knew that now even if he couldn’t say it out loud. there’d been a couple of really strange attempts at conversation about the situation, and he was pretty sure that she understood what he was driving at.

Talking, who needed it really? And she’d accepted an invitation to dinner. Then to lunch and an early movie. Things were looking up but then, Shera. Sweet Shera who he didn’t even realize he really loved until it was almost too late, brought her hand to him, inky black dust on her hand and creeping up her arm. That derailed everything.

Until now. He’d been back a few hours, long enough for a shower and a decent meal over which he’d told her as much as he could still actively remembered about the whole Bahamut/Remnant thing. It would all come back with more clarity later and it was somewhere around all of them heading back to Seventh for a drink and some rest that he sort of choked.

Thankfully, hse answered his unspoken question by crossing her arms the other way and showing that the stigma was gone from her, washed away just as it had been for Cloud and Denzel. For all of them.

He would have sobbed if he’d been the sort to do that kind of stuff. Thankfully she’d saved his idiotic ass the indignity of it (that was her job it seemed, saving his ass) by replacing his dinner plate with her backside and kissing him so thoroughly that he wasn’t even aware of how his pants came to be somewhere completely unrelated to him and her skirt was more of a belt. 

And damned if he’d never seen the like before. Plump, dark, and with a thatch of auburn curls, her pussy was like a gift from the goddess, folds swirling like a sort of delicious shell. 

Delicious was only a part of the story that table had to tell about that afternoon.


End file.
